Denmark was infamous for being the heaviest drinker out of all the Nordic countries, and was directly tied with Russia and England for the supreme title amongst all the nations worldwide. He could drink bottle after bottle of hard liquor, beer, and just about any alcoholic beverage from A to Z on the barkeeper's menu, without slurring a single word of his speech or stumbling over his own shoes.

On the other hand, he did nonetheless have a rather bad habit of becoming quite reckless and rowdy when drunk - even more so than he already was - by leaving any room he momentarily occupied as a pigsty. Norway, the Dane's best friend, took it upon himself to clean up the disasters that the Dane would unintentionally create, but it would take all of the smaller nation's patience in order to refrain from smacking his friend upside the head... although sometimes, he couldn't resist. Thus, it was quite often that after a night of merry drinking, Denmark would wake up early in the morning - hangover or none - and busy himself by doing the littlest of things, whether it be sharpening his axe, honing his weaponry skills, or take a lengthy hike around the beautiful country; anything to avoid a most colorful lecture from Norway.

On a day much like any other, Norway whistled as he walked to the front doorstep of the Nordics' house, arms occupied with two grocery-bags filled to the brim with fresh produce from the market. The blonde-haired Norwegian set the bags down at his feet as he searched his pockets for the door's key, and once unlocked, lifted the bags up back in his arms. He might as well have just left the bags lying there, for as soon as he walked in past the welcome mat, his eyes widened in disbelief upon noting the condition of the living room. His arms went limp at his sides, and the groceries fell to the floor, various vegetables and ingredients now rolled across the hard-wood floor.
He just couldn't believe it; books were randomly crammed onto any shelf, with no regard to genre or topic whatsoever; food wrappers that once concealed chocolate bars and various snack bread assortments found themselves piled up on the once clean coffee tables; bottles of Denmark's liquor lay stacked in piles on the floor next to the radio.

The Norwegian's face turned red in anger and he clenched his fists tightly in frustration. "DENMAAAAARK!" The young nation roared with such an intensity that Denmark, who had left the house early for his daily training, would be able to hear him wherever he was.
"Dammit," the blonde thought to himself as he collected both the fallen groceries and his temper. "The house was just perfectly clean yesterday, and now... Now... THIS." As he finished his complaint, he kicked aside a pair of Iceland's shoes that had been lying in the middle of the floor. Which makes the violet-eyed boy wonder; What kind of example was Denmark trying to set for the Norwegian's younger brother, anyways?

The disgruntled nation steadily made his way out of the living room and into the kitchen, running a hand through his golden hair. Heftily placing the bruised bags on a counter top, he hastily stored the groceries away to their proper places, and threw out the vegetables that had been damaged in the fall. He sighed and stood still in the middle of the kitchen (also a mess) and rested a palm on his forehead. "I guess," the boy sighed as he reached for his cleaning apron, "Since everyone else is out, I can at least tidy up this mess a little in peace and quiet."

Two and a half hours and eight garbage-bags later, all that was left to clean was Denmark's room. Norway took a deep breath before mustering the will to get up from the chair's embrace, grabbing hold of the broom that he set against the wall as he walked down the hallways in the direction of the tallest Nordic's room. He took great caution as he slowly opened the door, his eyes closed in fear and anticipation of the worst to have yet to lie on the other side of the barrier.

Norway cautiously peered around the room, and let a soft "Hm!" of astonishment as he observed that the mess wasn't nearly as bad as he thought it would be. Sure, there were stacks and stacks of booze bottles lying around, as well as an overflowing hamper of worn clothes, but there didn't seem to be any kinky magazines or radioactive spills in sight, contrary to what Norway had previously expected. "I better get started," Norway thought, starting to pick up trash, "before that idiot gets home and decides to devote his evening to pestering me."

Within twenty-five minutes, the Dane's bedroom had been clean, and Norway felt accomplished. His violet eyes sparkled as he admired the job well done. However, the victory was short-lived, and he groaned upon noticing something sticking out from underneath the bed. The object was large enough that the sheets settled on it, making it quite clear to see that something was hidden under them. Norway shook his head as he bent down to lift up the covers from the reached his hand under the bed, expecting to pull out a bottle that he had missed earlier. Imagine his surprise when his hand met a small, cardboard box instead!

"What could this be...?" Norway questioned with wonder, pulling the curious box along the cold wooden floor until it barely touched his knees. Lifting and then setting the rather heavy box on his knees, he searched around the top and sides for any labels or notes that could identify what it could possibly contain. His hands made their way to the flaps of the box, and his curiosity was about to let him open it. But within an instant, a strange suspicion overcame him, and he loosened his grasp from the box. "Maybe I should just put it back. Knowing Denmark, this box probably contains his dirty magazines or something weird..."The boy's purple eyes narrowed as he set the box back on the floor and pushed it away from him, back to its original location.

Clapping his hands on his knees before jumping back to a standing position, Norway made his way to the bedroom door. "Ah, well." He looked around the room one last time, admiring the wondrous improvement he had made, his thoughts interrupted as his eyes shifted back to that specific spot under the bed. "Well," Norway thought slowly, giving in to his inner wonder, "If I put things back when I'm done, he'll never know I was snooping." This time, Norway eagerly dove under the bed for the container, quickly checking over each shoulder for any signs of the Dane's return. Seeing no need to discontinue, he once again dragged the box from its hiding spot, his hands immediately parting the box's opening. "No... freaking... way..." the nation's cobalt eyes grew wide with astonishment at the contents of the box, a lump forming in his throat. He couldn't believe what he was seeing! He always had always assumed that Denmark was hiding something, but never would Norway have guessed in a thousand years that it would ever be something so... Dirty. Hands trembling, mind racing with excitement, Norway hurriedly reached at the contents of the box to further support his suspicions and discovery.

Denmark opened the living-room door, cautiously looking around for any signs of a particular Norwegian boy. With the assumption that his friend may still be holding a grudge on him for leaving the house a disaster earlier, the tall nation tried to put on a cheerful face, in hopes of softening the blows. "Helloooo?" He called out softly, awaiting a slap to the face or an aggravated "Where have you been?" from Norway. Once he confirmed that there was no danger of verbal or physical abuse, Denmark sighed with relief and allowed himself to step through the doorway, quietly closing the door behind him. He hung his black hat and his heavy jacket on the wooden coat hanger behind the door, and stretched his arms above his head, letting out a breathy yawn. "Man, I'm beat. Practice was really tiring," thought the tall nation, "I could sure go for a nap right about now."

Norway held several light-weight magazines in his hands, approximately half an inch in thickness each. They all had incredibly gaudy colors, just by looking at the spines; there was magenta pink, a fire-engine red, a fluorescent green, and a dark violet magazine. Picking the least offensively-colored, Norway scanned the cover of the violet issue. "What in the world could this b- Oh..." Norway's face turned beet red in realization, and his grip on the magazine's cover tightened. At the center of the cover, in plain sight, two men were situated in a highly suggestive pose; the taller of the two lie with his knees on either side of the more petite man's hips, his hands bringing each other into a deep, lustful kiss, just like in the movies. "This is..." The Norwegian brought a hand up to his mouth, the color of his cheeks resembling the hue of a ripe tomato. Quickly tossing the magazine to the side, his shaking hands reached for the fluorescent green issue. This ones cover was more colorful and busy than the previous cover, and featured three men engaged in a three-way act. Norway emitted a small gasp as he quickly looked at the other two magazines. This fire-engine red magazine involved an assortment of kinky costumes, all sported by men, while the magenta pink magazine revolved around handsome models stimulating themselves with the most curious assortment of sex toys.

A growing bulge pressed against the inside of Norway's trousers, and he uncomfortably shifted on his knees to help adjust to the ache. He almost felt ashamed at himself. Looking at the dirty magazines' contents and perverted material, the boy couldn't help but wonder when he had first started to get turned on by this sort of thing. He was quite aware of his orientation, but he never would have guessed that Denmark had the same unusual desires, too... If not a few more.

Norway's right hand slowly traveled down the front of his jeans as his left picked the violet magazine from the rest, lying it open on the floor before him. He turned the pages of the magazine in wonder. An eager hand gently rubbed against his clothed erection, which was increasing in size and arousal by the second. Unable to hesitate any longer, the boy dragged down his pants zipper, pulling the purple trousers lower down his thighs while supporting his upper-weight on his knees. The Norwegian pulled out his hardened arousal and began to stroke it lightly, from base to tip, continuing the process as he flipped through the pages. He occasionally stopped on a page to admire anything in particular that caught his eye. Norway's sea-blue eyes became half-lidded and he raised his hips to allow his nimble hand better access. Subconsciously blurring out the models' faces in the magazine, Norway had started to replace the strangers' faces with Denmark's; it only turned him on even more yet to imagine Denmark doing all these naughty acts. There was a page in particular that Norway had liked, so he left the page open on the ground and released his grip on the magazine, instead tasking the hand to play with a pink nipple. "Mmmh, Denmark..." Norway quietly moaned, biting at the left corner of his lip. His hand quickened its path on the throbbing shaft of his cock. The blonde vainly set his back against the side of the bed for support as the hand on his chest fastened to keep up with the pace of the other. "Ah, D-Den..mark..." He closed his eyes shut and he let out stiffled moans as he felt himself reach his edge. "Hah-ah... Ohh!" Norway started bucking his hips forwards and back in a continuous motion, imaging how it might feel to have the person of his desire here, making him feel this good. Over and over, he replayed the images of Denmark in his mind. His hand stroking his cock at full speed, he felt waves of ecstasy rip through his body as he finally hit his orgasm. His back arched forward, and a wonderful feeling fluttered throughout his nether regions. "D-Denmark!" The nation pleaded as streams of white cum generously dripped onto the wooden floor between his knees, slowing release as his climax had worn out. His breathing had calmed, but was still hectic. Norway let a sticky hand rest at his side, as another wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Well, well," a voice chuckled menacingly from the other end of the room, "You've managed to clean the rest of the house nicely, but what do you plan to do about my floor?" Norway's cobalt eyes quickly shifted to the end of the room. His jaw swung open. There he saw Denmark, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed... and he was wearing the most devious of smiles.

End Chapter 1.

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